FutureBob
by MissGreenie
Summary: Everyone's dead. It's been five years since Plankton became the supreme ruler with an ulterior plan and an army of merciless robots. SpongeBob, filled with regret, travels back in time to warn Bikini Bottom and prevent their misfortunes. A rewrite of a fanfic I wrote years ago, 'Prevention'. Eventually SpongeBob/Sandy.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I originally started 'Prevention' in 2009 but never finished it. Many people wanted more so I decided to begin anew, this time with actual knowledge of the English language and hopefully a more stable plot. We'll see! This first bit is a prologue and will be the only chapter in first POV. **

I never wanted any of this to happen.

From the very beginning of the chaos, I wasn't thinking about the future, my friends, or Bikini Bottom. I just wanted to survive...and survive I did.

Now I'm alone. In the past, I didn't know what the word truly meant. Alone: it had a definition in my brain, and from time to time I would define myself as feeling alone with nothing to do. But I was never actually _alone_...I had everything you could ask for, plus the most optimistic outlook in the sea. Once you're dragged into a cage, however, everything changes. The room grows smaller. The world gets louder. Every movement could be a sign of offense, and with heightened senses comes an indescribable paranoia.

Such a feeling of unrest leads you wishing that your final days will come. In my frenzied state of mind, suicide was always waiting to be plucked out of my subconscious, but I never let it become more than a desperate idea. Though broken, my former self was still in pieces, and he wouldn't even think the word. Depression had no meaning to him. Trapped in a reality where I could do no more but lay staring in a jail cell, all I did was wait.

Just keep waiting.

It has been five years since it happened, and I haven't forgiven myself.

To prevent further torture, it was best just to hide in the shadows, only showing my face for food or orders from..._him_.

My fists clenched and shook at that the thought of the monster. I bit my mouth to keep from screaming. That monster is what has driven me insane, leaving me to roll in my own filth and stare at the rusting, metal walls.

But what could I do? When I wasn't sleeping in my cell, I was ordered to keep guard and make sure that no one step foot in the building. Who would actually come in, anyway? The remaining citizens were too terrified of their supreme ruler to even approach his home. My day job was pointless, but he found enjoyment in spending this time throwing me around, and when I didn't cooperate, threatening and carrying out starvation.

Many times I've wanted to give up, but that little spark of my former self always brings hope. What if there was a way? What if there was a way to change all of this, to be free, to change...

_Time! _

That one word blared in my head, blocking out all other thoughts. Could the past really be changed?

I remembered the one machine that he told me never to touch. He said it was an old experiment, built back in the days when he was only a failed fast food restaurant owner. "Never go near that piece of junk," he barked at me once. "Or I'll rip your little yellow arms and legs off and use them to beat up the rest of you." I had just hung my head low, knowing that if he saw my frightened face that I would truly be humiliated.

Nothing else mattered now except getting to that machine. I groaned as I tried to force myself off of the concrete floor. I hadn't eaten in a few days and it left me weak and pained. Once my shaking feet stood on their own, I scanned my surroundings. The grimy walls and dreary grays plunged my eyes into a murky scene that made it hard to differentiate anything. How had I lived like this all of these years?

A bowl of food rested by the door, with the word 'DOG' hastily scrawled across the front. I scowled down at it, pushing away my desire to kick it into the wall.

My door was often unlocked, for he knew that I wouldn't try to escape-security was too high and my spirit was vanquished long ago. I almost squealed with glee as the metal entrance slowly creaked open. Beyond my cell were hallways filled with endless paintings and statues of him.

As I quietly strolled down the new hallway, I wondered where the robots were. They were always patrolling the place, making sure that I hadn't tried to cause a scene or escape. I eyed the cameras attached to the wall. They were on, but not sounding.

Something's going on, I realized, quickening my pace as I neared his laboratory. He hadn't used the massive chamber in years, so it was bound to be abandoned. I kept my laser gun close-one that I had stolen from a robot months ago, unbeknownst to him-just in case.

As expected, no one was around except Karen, who was long past ever waking up again. A part of me felt sorry for the neglected computer, for she used to be the only thing he went to for support. Now her screen was forever black, a giant crack punched through the middle in what had to have been uncontrollable rage.

"Aha!" I whispered as I finally spotted the machine. It was pushed to the back of the room, along with other forgotten inventions.

I slinked over to the dusty contraption, hoping that it was indeed the life saver I had been searching for.

Its familiar silhouette was all the confirmation I needed.

The machine was rather small and gray like the rest of the room, with many levers and knobs protruding out of its control board. Only two bright buttons mattered to my eyes, though: PAST and FUTURE.

I grinned for the first time in years, eager to mash the PAST button. Without better judgement, I did, only to realize that the machine needed a pass code.

Cursing loudly, I slammed a hand down on the array of controls. I had come so far without being noticed, and now I needed a code to get this thing to work?

Before I lost all composure, I decided to enter the first word that came to mind. I dusted off the old keys to the right of the FUTURE button and began to type.

The machine buzzed and the screen sputtered to life. _Choose your destination_, it read.

"Huh, so it was 'EVIL' after all," I said, my mouth so agape that it threatened to fall from its hinges. I pushed the PAST button more cautiously this time, hoping that it would actually work. Another prompt appeared on the screen:_ Enter years_. I stared at the keyboard, and then with shaking fingers, typed 5.

"Freeze where you stand!"

Familiar, robotic voices whirred behind me followed by the screech of wheeling legs.

I was caught.

My gaze snapped back up to the screen which now said: _You will reach your destination in 10 seconds_.

"Get him!"

His robots rushed toward me, their laser hands outstretched and ready to stun. I clumsily pulled out my own gun, shooting one in the head.

_6 seconds._

I shot another one in the leg, causing its wheel to break off and spin out of control.

_3 seconds._

Another one latched onto my arm, but I shook it away before it could touch the controls. The remaining robot wheeled around, dazed by the chaos.

_1 second._

I caught a glimpse of another horde coming my way through the door when the world turned black.

_I will save them_, was my final thought before all consciousness faded away.


	2. Introduction

"What the scallop!?"

Plankton found himself pressed against Karen's massive monitor, paralyzed with confusing fear. One minute he was explaining his latest ingenious and elaborate patty stealing plan to his computer wife, and the next, SpongeBob appears out of thin air.

For a moment, Plankton wondered if SpongeBob had been sent by Krabs again to spy on him. It was plausible. After all, he hadn't barged into the Krusty Krab announcing a diabolical scheme in a few weeks. The longer his wide eye stared at the yellow headache, the idea became less likely.

SpongeBob didn't look like himself. His eyes were strangely sunken in, as if he hadn't slept. The odd clothes he donned were a dirty gray, covered in holes and clumsily stitched patches.

Not to mention the _beard!_ When did this kid grow facial hair? Plankton recalled SpongeBob boasting about a single chest hair in the Krusty Krab one day, only for Squidward to snort and reveal that it was a only very long eyelash. SpongeBob refused to believe the fact even after it had fallen away.

Was this all apart of Krabs' plan to mess with Plankton's head?

"How's that cave of yours treating you, kid?" Plankton asked, smoothing back his antennae as he pushed away from Karen. "Ever heard of the word 'shower'?" His dull expression was wiped away by SpongeBob's own scary one.

"Oh, nothing. Just carrying out my job at the Krusty Krab," SpongeBob replied coolly. His eyes met Karen, who remained silent, then back to the tiny organism. He crouched down, getting uncomfortably close to him. "Not up to anything, I hope?"

SpongeBob's newly deep voice was almost enough to make Plankton forget about the sponge's rancid breath. "Neptune, SpongeBob," Plankton hissed, waving at his nonexistent nose. "Personal space! I think we talked about this before: there is a very clear line separating you and I and you've crossed it yet again."

SpongeBob didn't say anything and merely returned to his normal height. His piercing eyes remained transfixed on Plankton and it was starting to get really, really uncomfortable.

Plankton exchanged a worried glance with Karen. Rather than "Okay. Anyway," he started again, "I'm not up to anything at the moment. So you're time here is no good. You're better off flipping patties across the street."

Again, SpongeBob said nothing. Instead, he just nodded slowly, and made his way out of the Chum Bucket.

Once he was out, Plankton was still confused as ever. Usually, he'd receive a response similar to "I know you're up to something, Plankton!" or "You'll never get the formula. The Krusty Krab will always prevail!" Although those statements were always true, one of them wasn't. He really wasn't up to anything tangible, and he knew his plans weren't good enough for a while. The whole situation was just weird.

_Really_ weird.

"SpongeBob is really not himself," Karen said. "You should probably show a little concern."

"Oh, well," Plankton decided. "SpongeBob is loony even on a good day. Karen, fetch me my extra high chair. It's time for dinner."

"It seems like you always forget that I'm attached to the wall."

The mysterious SpongeBob had stopped in front of the Krusty Krab seconds later, staring intensely at the front.

'_It's so strange to see it again_,' he thought, the corners of his mouth lifting into a sad smile._ 'I wonder if Mr. Krabs is-No! This isn't what you came all this way for. You need to confront _someone else first.'

The sponge slowly trotted away, glancing back a couple of times before heading straight.

Toward Conch Street.

Life was as usual as ever for the three undersea creatures that lived on Conch Street. Squidward was watching TV and completing an art themed crossword puzzle, Patrick was under his rock wondering why the ceiling never changed no matter how hard he stared at it, and...SpongeBob was inside his house, about to leave to go meet Sandy at her treedome.

Upon realization that he hadn't seen the karate chopping squirrel in a while, he decided to pay her a visit. After picking the the brightest flowers in his garden and tending to Gary, he headed out the door.

His nose nearly touched the sponge that Plankton had mistaken him for.

The vase of flowers slipped through his hands and shattered on the cobblestone walkway.

"Oh my gosh, sir, are you okay?" SpongeBob asked, wildly pointing to the other sponge's clothes. "What happened?"

"I can't tell you right now," the sponge said quietly.

"Well, that's okay," SpongeBob replied. He rubbed the back of his head. Rarely did he ever meet sponges, and this one was like no other. "Would you like to come inside? You look like you haven't eaten or," he eyed the sponge's appearance, "had a change of clothes in a really long time." He opened the door, gesturing inside. "I have plenty of extra square pants that I'm sure would fit you!"

Making a face, the sponge agreed. "Very well, as long as you don't tell anyone that I'm here."

SpongeBob's eyes grew wide. He couldn't tell anyone? Not even Patrick? What was this guy up to?

He brushed the vase pieces into a pile, intending to throw them away later. "Uh, that's fine. I won't tell anyone. May I ask your name?"

"Call me FB for now," the sponge said. '_What a stupid name to come up with,_' he thought.

"Alright, FB! Welcome to my humble abode." SpongeBob silently led him inside, finding the whole situation really fishy. Why did he feel like he knew this sponge? Was he a relative? No, a relative wouldn't be so...cautious around him.

They stopped in the living room, where the sponge stood stuff by the sofa. He eyed every piece of decor with a strange, otherworldly wonder.

"Uh, you can sit, you know," SpongeBob reminded him, clearing his throat. FB snapped out of his trance, nodded, and then sat upon the life preserver couch. "You wait here while I go prepare something in the kitchen!"

SpongeBob disappeared around the corner, glancing back worriedly as he did so.

Once he knew that he was truly alone, FB whipped out a small, square device. He touched it with one finger. Quickly, his expression changed from cold to relieved.

"Good," he breathed. "It appears he hasn't been able to travel here yet."

"Hey, SpongeBob!"

A strangled scream escaped FB's throat as the device flew from his hands. He hurriedly scrambled to pick it back up, jamming it into his back pocket. Shakily looking up, he knew who to expect.

Patrick stared down at him, a smile plastered across his face.

"Ready to go jellyfishing?" he practically yelled, unable to contain his excitement. His happiness faded when he noticed FB's strange choice of attire and...beard. "Huh, you don't look so good, buddy. And you never told me you grew a beard! Did you visit Mindy again without me?"

FB looked close to tears. "I..."

SpongeBob strolled back in just as FB began his sentence. "Alright, I've got some Krabby Patties, Dr. Kelp, and-" He stopped when he noticed Patrick. "Oh. Hey, Pat. What's up?"

Patrick's face was completely blank. "SpongeBob, you didn't tell me you had a twin!"

"Patrick, what are you...Oh, him." SpongeBob laughed humorlessly as he sat down the tray. "I met him on the way to Sandy's. I haven't gone yet because I've decided to take care of him for a while. His name is FB."

"So you do have a twin! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Patrick, I just met him outside."

"And after all this time, I thought best friends were supposed to tell each other everything!" Patrick stomped over to FB, taking him by the arm and pointing accusingly at his side. "See, he even has four holes right here, just like you!"

"Pat, for the last time-wait, how do you know how many holes I have?"

Patrick folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Please, SpongeBob. Everyone knows that."

FB slammed a fist down onto the coffee table, sending the tray of Krabby Patties and drinks cascading to the floor. SpongeBob gasped for the fallen burgers. "I'm not his twin, alright? _Triton_, I forgot about all of these stupid arguments we shared. A slew of poison sea urchin attached to my back for weeks can't even compare to this."

SpongeBob and Patrick grew quiet. "What?" they said in unison.

FB put his head in his hands. "How do I explain this?"

"You have seven holes on your front, SpongeBob," Patrick said.

"Ugh, you people! Look, I'm from the future, and I'm here to save you, your friends, and everyone in Bikini Bottom!"


	3. Explanation

_'I'm from the future, and I'm here to help you, your friends, and everyone in Bikini Bottom.'_

An uncomfortable silence followed FB's confession.

"Well?" FB uttered a single word, frustration seeping through his voice. He suddenly felt self-conscious. Did he explain it wrong? He probably sounded crazy. His patience was starting to dwindle the longer they stood there, and just when he was about to force an answer out of the two best friends...

They burst out laughing.

_'This is not a laughing matter!' _FB thought angrily. He hung his head as Patrick began to roll on the floor. _'These two are pathetic. How could I forget that we took nothing seriously?'_

After what seemed like forever, SpongeBob and Patrick stood tall again, with SpongeBob wiping away flooding tears and Patrick fighting back remaining giggles.

FB scowled. "Are you two quite finished?"

"I'm sorry but," SpongeBob paused to chuckle once more, "your story is really funny!" He suddenly became very stoic. "But seriously, why are you in Bikini Bottom, anyway?"

"For the exact reason I said before! I'm from the future-it truly isn't pleasant-and I've come to help you." FB's exasperation was getting painful. He was on the verge of stomping out of the pineapple and back to his own timeframe. What was the point in explanations when no one would listen to a word he said?

Patrick huffed. "Oh yeah? Prove it."

FB's expression grew dark. "Very well, then." He pulled out the device he had used earlier. "See this? I use it for almost everything. TV, GPS, my own personal backscratcher. For now, I'd like to show you something specific."

SpongeBob and Patrick drew closer. FB's tapping on the device was a whirlwind of commands, and they couldn't keep up. Soon, a massive, holographic screen appeared in the air. In seconds, a scene flickered on, depicting Plankton commanding a search party with his army of robots.

Only this Plankton wasn't the one SpongeBob knew so well.

"What's Plankton doing with robots?" SpongeBob asked nervously. He pointed at the screen. "Also, what's with the bath robe?"

"You mean what is the 'Supreme Ruler' doing with his minions. Right now-back in my time-Plankton," FB cringed at the name, "is searching for me. I'm surprised that he hasn't caught on." He stared into space. "Perhaps the robots from earlier never recovered and didn't tell him."

While FB shared a conversation with himself, SpongeBob turned to Patrick in shock. The starfish looked unmoved by the situation. Who was FB? Was he really from the future?

"Pat, I think we should trust this guy," SpongeBob whispered from behind his hand.

"I don't know, SpongeBob," Patrick replied grimly. "I really don't believe that thing is a backscratcher."

Ignoring Patrick's irrelevant comment, SpongeBob returned to FB. "Sir? Would you mind telling us what your real name is now?" he asked, as the projection above them dissolved. "I understand that you're in a mess, but-"

"SpongeBob."

"What?"

FB sighed. "My name is SpongeBob."

Patrick seemed excited. "Wow, that's awesome! He has the same name as you, SpongeBob!"

"What? That makes no sense, I mean-it does-but me? We? You? I?" SpongeBob sputtered, falling back into his chair. He just couldn't imagine it. If FB-his future self-was telling the truth, he was living in a world where Plankton controlled everyone and robots roamed the land, keeping eternal watch. He suddenly shrugged. "I guess I could live in a world of endless terror if I grew a beard."

FB smacked himself. "I came to you-uh, myself-personally to tell you what's going on." He stared down at his shoeless feet. "You really have no idea what it's like. It'll happen to you, too, if you don't listen to what I have to say."

"Oh, I'm listening," Patrick said skeptically, folding his arms.

SpongeBob peered confusedly at Patrick, then back to FB. "First, tell us everything. Uh, simplify it a bit. The basics."

"That's reasonable enough," FB agreed. He sat down, for his story was far from short. "Alright, where to start..."

"Around this time-about 6 months from now-my whole life changed. One minute I was merrily flipping Krabby Patties and talking to all of my wonderful friends, and the next I was working for Plankton." FB stared sadly at the floor.

"No!" SpongeBob gasped.

"Yes!" Patrick said in return.

"Apparently, Plankton had planned the invasion for months. It was ignorant of me not to think that he hadn't tried to steal the formula in a while. Mr. Krabs didn't notice either, while Squidward..." He trailed off for a minute, before continuing, "Plankton had been building super weapons as well as his own personal robots to help destroy Bikini Bottom and the entire ocean. His wish for the formula had seemingly vanished.

"I remember the day far too well. It was around closing time at the Krusty Krab, and while I was busy annoying Squidward, Mr. Krabs seemed anxious. Kind of edgy, somehow. I went over to ask what was wrong, and he wasn't sure himself. Something seemed eerie about Bikini Bottom that day, and I couldn't put my finger on it at the time." FB ignored SpongeBob's offer for seahorse milk and began his story again. "Before I knew it, a giant hole had formed in the side of the restaurant, caused by a very powerful blast. Even Squidward looked shocked, and had dropped his magazine.

"While Mr. Krabs was inspecting the hole, I frantically began looking for the cause. I soon saw a giant laser had emerged from the Chum Bucket. It was about to fire at the Krusty Krab again. Plankton hadn't done anything this bad before, and for the first time I was sincerely terrified for the safety of the Krusty Krab. Plankton began shooting at the building again, and more giant holes appeared in the walls. I had pushed Mr. Krabs out of the way the second time, for he was too paralyzed with fear. Squidward had suddenly disappeared, and I had no idea what happened to him...at the time.

"The rest of that day was horrifying. Plankton threatened Mr. Krabs with execution if he didn't hand over me to the Chum Bucket, and he agreed after having a laser gun shoved in his face. Plankton...he..._killed_ Mr. Krabs right in front of me. I'd never seen anyone die before until that day." FB had stopped his story when SpongeBob screamed loudly, knocking over the food tray on the table. Patrick, too, had let down his serious façade. "I broke down after that, because I had already handed myself over. I actually believed that Plankton would keep his so called 'promise' and let Mr. Krabs live. I managed to escape for a while, running away from Plankton and the few robots he had already constructed. I was unable to save many of my friends' lives that day: Patrick, Mrs. Puff, Larry, Pearl...Even Sandy."

SpongeBob didn't even have a response then.

FB fell deathly silent, his knuckles turning white from clenching them so tightly.

"Many more people fell in the coming weeks. The ones that survived, however, reluctantly agreed to serve Plankton and obey all orders. I was one of them, for I knew my life held nothing for me now. The next five years passed in a blur. A permanent scowl replaced my tears after about two years. Depression vanished after three, but my memories would never disappear. After those five years, I was finally able to escape and travel here to help you." FB looked at both SpongeBob and Patrick. "I want to prevent what happened from happening to you two again."

After FB finished, Patrick's blank expression had turned worried, and SpongeBob looked like he was going to faint. Everyone was going to die? Patrick and Sandy? He couldn't believe any of it. But deep down, he knew it was true. Why would some stranger that looked exactly like him stop by and make up a complex story as a joke?

"FB, I..." SpongeBob didn't know what to say. "I want your help. Patrick does, too."

"I've always needed help," Patrick admitted.

SpongeBob smacked his hand with a fist. "We have to stop Plankton before he can turn Bikini Bottom into a toxic waste dump!"

"Isn't it already?" Patrick asked.

"It's not that easy," FB said. "We need to collect all of your close friends. We can't fight an army with just three people!" His eyes met Patrick. "Er, two people. I hate to say this, but we need to go back to my time. We have to destroy Plankton, his robots, and everything he created before it happens in the present. If we're successful, it will never happen."

SpongeBob gaped. "You mean we can't just wait here and prevent anything from happening in the present?"

"Plankton won't find us for a while because his tracking device broke. I destroyed it a couple of months ago out of spite. You have no idea how mad he was, and I'm not going to tell you what he did. Basically, it takes a while to build another one. He'll be searching the town while we secretly steal some things that could help us in the near future."

"Wow, I never thought I'd become so...smart," SpongeBob said, laughing despite everything. "But I still have one question: If Plankton hasn't built his time machine yet, how will we get back to the future? I don't know anyone with a time machine!"

FB grinned. "Yes, you do. And you were just on your way to visit her."


	4. Old Friends

Getting SpongeBob's close friends in on the plan wasn't much of a challenge. He explained to his friends that his cousin was visiting. _Extremely_ excited for them to meet him, he wanted them at his pineapple at 4 o'clock. The random Bikini Bottomites that he informed agreed as well, but for an entirely different reason: SpongeBob was already an entertaining nut-job on his own, so a relative had to be even more exotic. They were eager to see what the SquarePants Family zoo had brought into town this time.

Sandy and Squidward were another story.

"Fascinating. Neither idiotic laughter nor an annoying yellow sponge has set foot on my property today."

Squidward was beyond suspicious. Traditionally, SpongeBob and Patrick would barge into his house once a day and expect entertainment. One time, Squidward came home from the store only to find that SpongeBob had hosted a city-wide extreme lacrosse tournament in his living room. All of Bikini Bottom had fit themselves inside of the Easter Island head to bid on who would emerge victorious. Despite Squidward's pleas, the nightmare continued, and Old Man Jenkins was the winner. Some people just didn't have any sense, or a brain at all.

"Could it be?" Squidward whispered. He peered through his window to see nothing but the sidewalk and sand. A tumbleweed rolled by. "Are SpongeBob and Patrick doing something else that's as equally stupid as coming over here?" The octopus grinned to himself, chuckled maniacally, and thought it was best to just enjoy the short vacation that he had. "Now I can finally try out my new scented loofah."

It was a workout for SpongeBob to keep up with FB's-he decided to continue calling him that for no confusion-brisk, soldier-like pace as they traveled away from the pineapple home. "We've already contacted Mr. Krabs," he panted, trying to catch his breath, "Pearl, Mrs. Puff, Larry, my mom, the jellyfish, that infomercial guy, and pretty much everyone in Bikini Bottom. Who's next?"

"Squidward," FB replied quietly, keeping his head low. "Sandy's last, for she's the key to what we need." Internally, he was afraid that no one would actually show up at 4 o'clock, but he didn't want to worry SpongeBob anymore. The innocent sponge was already struggling to stay calm and keep up with every piece of information FB threw his way.

SpongeBob nodded. "That makes sense!"

SpongeBob followed FB over to Squidward's doorstep, while Patrick remained sitting by the pineapple. It was hard to tell why he was doing that, but SpongeBob could tell that he wasn't taking FB's story all that lightly, either.

FB pulled out his device again, scanned the door, and said, "Good, looks like he's home." He knocked loudly, stepped back, and tried to keep up a formal composure.

A crash sounded from behind the door. SpongeBob glanced nervously at FB, who remained still.

Squidward opened the door with great force, revealing his tired, angry face. "One day!" he yelled. "Could you please give me one day to-" His voice died as he realized that there was not one, but two sponges standing in front of him.

"Excuse me, but SpongeBob and I need to have a word with you," FB said. He turned to look at Patrick, who seemed content far away. "As well as Mr. Star."

Squidward screamed in horror, and before he could slam the door in the sponges' faces, FB grabbed his tentacles and dragged him into the sand.

"Listen to me," FB hissed, nearly pressing his nose to Squidward's. "We need to talk. Unless you like the sound of your behind hitting the deepest trenches of Rock Bottom, I suggest you meet us at the pineapple at four." His gaze only hardened the longer Squidward shook. "I give you permission to return inside your home, but you _must _be outside by 3:55. Is that clear?"

Squidward had difficulty speaking.

FB rattled him. "_Am I understood_?"

"Yes, yes! I understand! Just please don't hurt me, I play clarinet!" Squidward wailed.

"Good." FB dropped Squidward, who fell to the ground with a hard thump. "Let's go, SpongeBob."

SpongeBob glanced back at Squidward, who was now slowly crawling back toward his door.

"Those eyes," Squidward muttered into the sand.

SpongeBob jogged to catch up with FB. "Uh, wow, FB. Don't you think that was a little harsh?" he asked. "After all, Squidward does play clarinet with those hands."

"You don't understand," FB said.

"I do! I've tried to play his clarinet before, and believe me it's-"

"Never mind. It's time to head to our last stop."

SpongeBob decided to keep the subject changed for now. "Okay, so how are we going to explain our situation to Sandy?"

"We're not."

SpongeBob stopped walking. "What do you mean? If we don't tell her, how can she help us?"

"We should wait until 4 o'clock to tell her," FB explained. "It's best that we tell everyone at once so that it won't take as long."

While SpongeBob didn't agree with FB's plan, he reluctantly nodded and remained silent during their journey to the Treedome.

Once they reached the metal door, FB outstretched his hand to knock. It started to shake violently the longer it remained suspended, and after a few moments, he let it fall back to his side.

"I think you should knock," he muttered, shuffling out of the way.

SpongeBob, confused, took FB's offer. "Uh, okay," he said, knocking as he usually would. He rocked back and forth on his heels and whistled to break the strangely uneasy silence.

When Sandy's voice broke through the intercom, FB inhaled sharply.

"Howdy! Who might be visitin' me on this lovely day?" Sandy's voiced buzzed.

"Hiya Sandy! It's uh, me, SpongeBob. Is it alright if I bring a friend in, too?"

"Why, sure! Nothin' wrong with a few guests. Come on in!"

SpongeBob entered the space separating the ocean from dry air. He pulled out two bubble helmets, placed one on his head, and the other in FB's hands. "Here, put it on," he said. His eyes darted about the room filled with water. "Barnacles, I feel awful for dropping all of her flowers."

At first, FB just stared at the helmet with humorous intensity. Hesitantly, he placed it over his head.

Once the alarm sounded and the water drained, the door swung open and they met with Sandy's bright grin.

"Hey, SpongeBob. I haven't seen ya in a while." Placing a hand on her hip, Sandy's eyes traveled to the shaking FB. "Is their yer friend?"

Suddenly remembering the plan, SpongeBob's voice filled with fake enthusiasm. "Oh, yeah! Sandra, may I introduce you to FB."

Sandy studied FB for a moment. "Nice to meet ya. What does FB stand for?"

"Fredrick Bale," FB answered far too quickly. "I was named after my great-grandfather, who was highly honored in my family. The name was bestowed to me without a second thought."

"Uh huh," Sandy said. "That's really interestin', Mr. Bale."

FB turned red suddenly. "Call me FB, please."

"Sure thing."

There was a long awkward silence before SpongeBob cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "You see Sandy, FB is my cousin and I haven't seen him in years. I was really surprised to find him outside of my house, so I would like to ask you-along with everyone else in Bikini Bottom-to get to know him formally at 4 o'clock today."

"Why 4 o'clock?" Sandy asked.

"FB is the friendliest after an afternoon snack," SpongeBob explained.

FB glared daggers into the side of the sponge. "Am I really?"

"Yes, really," SpongeBob said through his teeth, his smile turning crazy. "Fredrick's appetite needs appeased."

"I think that rash of yours is what needs appeasing," FB hissed.

SpongeBob gasped, self-consciously covering himself. "Dear Neptune! How do you know about that!?"

"I'm _you_, kelp-for-brains!"

The two sponges froze as they realized that Sandy was still there, staring at them with blank confusion.

"Shrimp, you blew it!" FB screamed.

SpongeBob sputtered, placing a hand over his chest. "Me? How about you, Mr. Fredrick Bale!?"

"I panicked! Let's see you do better with a rash!"

"What are you saying!? I do perfectly well with-"

"Guys!" Sandy yelled over both of them. They immediately reverted back to just standing there. "Alright, no funny business. What the heck is goin' on here?"

SpongeBob and FB exchanged glances.

FB stepped forward. "I think it would be best if you sit down."

"Okay, so what ya'll are saying is, Fredrick-uh, FB-is from the future, is actually SpongeBob, and eventually becomes one of Plankton's mindless slaves?"

FB stared down at the picnic table they were sitting at. "Not mindless, but you're right about the slave part."

"I still don't understand why you're not in shock," SpongeBob said, turning to Sandy.

Sandy stirred her tea, eyeing its contents. She hadn't taken one sip. "Well, it makes sense in a way. Time travelin' is possible, and I can prove it because I've built my own time machine."

SpongeBob whirled to face FB, who didn't look at him.

"That's another reason why we're here," FB admitted. "I'm aware that you made a time machine, and I'd like to humbly request if we could use it to get back to the future. There's really no other way."

Sandy leaned back in her chair, putting her hands behind her head. "Duh, darn tootin' you can use it. Ya actually thought I'd say no?"

"I don't know," FB replied lamely.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. I will help you and SpongeBob no matter what it takes. Ya'll can count on me to attend that meeting today."

FB suddenly flew up. "Neptune, I lost track of time! We don't have long before the meeting. Come on, me, we have to plan." He grabbed SpongeBob by the arm and dragged him toward the exit.

"Ow, we don't need to rush!" SpongeBob managed to say through a mouthful of dirt.

Sandy laughed, waving from faraway. "I'll see you boys soon, then!"

FB sighed heavily. As much as he loved his old friends, it was going to be hard to get anything through them.


End file.
